Memory
by ohmytuesday
Summary: He smiled then, a soft, gentle smile, and twirled a wonderfully glossy lock of ivory around his finger in contemplation. Simply explained, ignorance may be blissful, but curiosity also existed to kill the cat.


**MY APOLOGIES:**

Firstly for being dead, fanfic-wise. (My comp firewalled fanfiction, so I could only read fanfiction on my PSP.) And for the crappiness of this, which I wrote on a whim to prove that I can write non-crack works of literature. Also, for the lame-ness and shortness of the storyline. (If it has any similarity to your fanfiction, PM me or something so I can change it.)

_If you're reading this, I'm really sorry for acting like a bitch. _

**MY GRATITUDE:**

Firstly to Hayden, for her giftfic(?). Secondly to Emberlem, for _her_ (unposted) giftfic, and opinions on how to write serious stuff. And Katsura Hoshino, for creating Kanda and Allen © DGM. Also to Renee, for 'smuggling' nerdy cards from the library with me. (LMAOS)

**Return giftfic to dear x3HAYden, with extra dedications to Emberlem and everyone who reviewed HNTAYCTP!**

* * *

On a dark, snowy night in the middle of winter, he opened his eyes. Only he didn't know that his name was Allen Walker, and that he had not opened his eyes for almost six years.

The first thing he noticed was the length of his hair. It was long, nearly reaching the middle of his back. And it was surprisingly smooth and silky, loosely but neatly tied up with a piece of black leather, something he never remembered encountering before. He sat up, and took a look around, eyes roving over each nook and cranny visible in the dim light.

How strange… he didn't recognize anything about this place at all. It appeared to be a rather expensive hospital ward, though what he was doing here was a mystery of sorts.

Warily, he wriggled his toes, then his fingers. He _seemed_ perfectly fine; nothing hurt or wrong, except for the fact that he had absolutely no memories beyond his awakening.

It didn't matter. He had a gut feeling his life wasn't very pleasant anyway. After all, wasn't ignorance supposed to be bliss?

He smiled then, a soft, gentle smile, and twirled a wonderfully glossy lock of ivory around his finger in contemplation. Simply explained, ignorance may be blissful, but curiosity also existed to kill the cat.

He smiled again, wryly this time. As much as this place gave him the creeps, it was his only known link to his recollections, and he found himself sifting through is bedside drawer despite his earlier reservations.

_How odd…_

A red ribbon, about three feet long and an inch wide.

Two packets of instant soba, together with a pair of wooden chopsticks.

Another hair-tie, though this one was navy-coloured.

A beautiful ebony comb, intricately decorated with ruby red sakura blossoms.

He frowned; the various random objects he unearthed provided no clue to his past at all, much to his disappointment.

Standing up, he stretched and yawned, just catching a glimpse of something shiny and metallic in a corner under his bed.

Hold on a second, what was _that_?!

The boy knelt a second time and bent over, reaching for the as yet unidentifiable hunk of reflective material, wincing a little as long retired muscles were hurriedly called back for active duty.

It was getting quite annoying, the length of his hair. Another pointed frown, this time directed towards the trailing ends of his snow white ponytail. He really needed to get it cut, and soon. How Kanda managed to live through the constant irritation without hacking his off, he would never know.

_Wait_.

Who was Kanda?

He grabbed the palm-sized object and shakily pulled himself into a sitting position, breathing hard in stunned shock.

He could have sworn he had absolutely no idea just who this 'Kanda' person was. But… it seemed so _natural_, the way it popped straight out of nowhere to take its rightful place in his train of thought.

Just who Kanda was, he didn't know, but one thing he was sure of: he must have been pretty important to him in the past, for the white-haired boy to even remember his name. He certainly didn't remember anyone else's.

Bolstered by this small memory, he scrambled to stand, scrutinizing each and every one of his supposed personal belongings before closing his eyes and bracing himself for the tsunami of past events he was sure would follow.

… Nothing. _Blast_.

He tried again, frustratedly tugging at his hair, only to collapse heavily on the pale grey bedspread when nothing- if you count a _monster_ headache _nothing_- came to mind. Try as he might, any foray into his locked memories brought about a deafening cacophony of someone's voice- _his own, probably_- desperately screaming for Kanda. The wretched sound echoed around the inside of his skull, rebounding off the sides in a way specially designed to cause exquisite agony.

It hurt; it hurt like hell, dammit. And so he wasn't going to tax his neural pain processors any more than he just had.

He shuddered; the extent of his pain tolerance was not something he wanted to test out. Ever.

He pushed himself upright again, absentmindedly tossing the small metal object from hand to hand, when its sudden and continuous shrill beeping scared the pants off him.

In his shock, the unidentified ball slipped from his fingers and crashed onto the dully tiled floor. _Crap_. He really hoped that didn't disturb any nearby doctor or nurse doing their work.

The boy moved to crouch beside it, picking it up gingerly and brushing invisible specks of dirt off its shiny golden surface. Dozens of dents and scratched adorned its otherwise smooth sides, though it appeared to still be in fine working condition.

_Well, good thing they made beeping metal ball thingies klutz-proof._

Gently, he ran his fingers over its cool surface, probing curiously at hidden bumps and indentations in hopes of shutting it up. The thing continued its annoying beeping, much to his chagrin, at an even higher volume than before. He winced, grabbing a pillow from the foot of his bed in an attempt to smother the piercing noise it emitted hurting his ears.

A soft sigh of relief, closely followed by a loud intake of faintly musty air.

The youth turned to face the open doorway, eyes locking on the shadowed features of a ponytailed man, standing against the harsh fluorescent light cutting through the darkness overlaying the ward.

The light gleamed menacingly off a long, slightly curved sword- _unsheathed_, he noted- tied to his right hip.

The man stepped forward, seemingly familiar with the layout of the room. His surroundings were suddenly brightly illuminated at the flick of a tiny switch attached to the wall.

He felt stupid for not turning the light on earlier, bringing on a light dust of blush on his pale cheeks.

He peered dazedly at the other, blinking repeatedly to clear his vision.

"Che, its about time you woke up, Moyashi."

* * *

**Another thing I'm sorry for:**

Not following the original storyline someone PMed to me. I swear I'll add in the 'lovers' thing later!

_Its really hard, much harder than I thought, writing serious fanfiction. D: _

_**Uhh, review?**_


End file.
